I happen to be irrefutably in love with stormy weather, something you might have guessed from reading my post from last week (find it here).
I wrote this a few months ago, while it was raining. It’s raining now, so I see it fit to post it now.
She sat beside her window, and stared out at the gently rippling water in the pool, now gray as graphite, reflecting the dull, mirthless colour of the sky. Usually, it could stay like this for hours, the heavens projecting a melancholic sense of foreboding and wrath withheld, but indecision about whether or not the Celestials wanted to have their revenge on mankind or not. The depression it threatened was so intense it had to give way to pure excitement. Darkness, blackness, shades of gray all became very appealing in a matter of seconds, and sparked within her a desire…
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